


But how about this?

by shetlandowl



Series: One of Us [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Another way the story could end, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Office Blow Jobs, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 07:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14588250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shetlandowl/pseuds/shetlandowl
Summary: Steve knew better, but he chose to stay.





	1. Four seconds later

Steve threw the truck into reverse and backed into the ditch, where it wouldn’t get in anyone’s way. He was afraid of what Tony would say—afraid that it was too late to ask for forgiveness, but none of it held a candle to the cloying panic that overcame him when Tony fell off his horse. 

If he had lost Tony, he’d never forgive himself. 

He shoved out of the truck then, and quickly made his way to Tony. He wanted to hold him, wanted to see for himself that Tony was unharmed, but as he got within reach, Tony flinched back from his touch. 

Served him right. 

“Talk,” Tony demanded. “Talk, right now. Explain to me why you did that, why you—” he swallowed hard against a rush of emotions, but he shook it off. “Talk, or I’m leaving.”

“I am so sorry,” Steve told him, because he knew no better words. “Tony, I—I’m, I’ve. I haven’t been honest with you. When I first met you—”

“No,” Tony interrupted him, his voice leaden with anger and tears. “No: right now, plain as fucking day, you tell me right now what you lied about. Don’t bullshit me with stories, what did you do?”

“I’m Canadian,” Steve said. It sounded pathetic, now, humiliating. All this pain for something so arbitrary. 

Tony stared at him, like he was still waiting for Steve to explain himself. He frowned after a while, blinking at Steve more in confusion than anger. “What?”

“I was being deported, Tony,” Steve whispered, taking a small step forward. “I. The day we met, I was looking for someone. Someone easy, someone whom my money might… god, just shoot me.”

“I still might,” Tony muttered, eyeing him in frustration. “That’s why you want to marry me, for a visa?”

“No!” Steve blurted out, then quickly covered his mouth in his shame. He breathed in slowly, then explained. “Tony, yes, I—that night, I was looking for someone to marry for a visa. I didn’t believe, I didn’t. I hadn’t met anyone like you, Tony, someone who made me feel… inherently worthwhile. Just for being myself. I didn’t think I’d find you, I thought I’d find someone like myself. Someone who, whom my money, my stability could satisfy. I thought it would be a trade, money and sex for a marriage and a visa. Tony, I was going to lose my job, my lifestyle. Everything I’ve worked for my whole life.”

“So why’d you say no!” Tony cried, and god, Steve’s hands ached to hold him, ached to wipe those tears away. Who was he to bring this man pain? “We were—it was happening, we were going to be married, we could have a life! Why did you leave?”

“I’ve been lying to you this whole time!” Steve insisted, “I want to marry you so I can be with you, so we can have a chance, but, Tony. Even I know you can’t build a life on a lie.”

Tony stared at him for a while, shaking his head slowly as if in utter disbelief. “Can you hear yourself?” he whispered, “you’re… you’re running away because you’re Canadian. Big fucking deal, oh my God. Did you ever stop to think why I wanted to marry you? Or is this all about you? Here I thought it takes two to get married, unless it’s Utah, which this is fucking not—”

“Tony.”

Finally, Tony let go of Dummy, and took a few shaky, uncoordinated steps towards Steve. Something wasn’t right, something—could it be that Tony had hurt himself in the fall after all? In his panic, Steve forgot about keeping his distance and rushed forward to catch Tony in his arms. He braced Tony against his chest with relative ease, unwilling to let Tony’s legs take any more weight. 

This close, he could hear Tony breathing, he could feel his heartbeat. 

Tony draped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, and cautiously, gently, combed his fingers through Steve’s hair, doing what he could even now to comfort him. 

“I told you I would marry you so I could get to know you,” Tony reminded him in a whisper. “But that doesn’t mean I’m just going along with it for you. Steve, you’re not the only one who wants someone to come home to, someone to build a life with. I have good people in New York, but Steve, they’re not family. Please,” he begged, lifting his head to look Steve in the eyes. “If there’s another reason you don’t want to marry me, you need to tell me right now, because that mess with the visa, it’s—Steve, it’s negligible, it’s nothing. You mean too much to me, I don’t care where you’re from. I don’t care what I have to do to give us a chance.”

Steve watched him in awe. How could it be so simple? 

“You really think you can forgive me?”

“What? Steve, don’t—it’s not that fucking hard to imagine why you’d be scared to open up to someone you haven’t known two weeks. Have you lied about anything else?”

“I,” Steve stammered, struggling to recall. “Jan didn’t send me the engagement rings by accident, I asked her to.”

“That’s, okay,” Tony said quietly, nodding in understanding. “That’s fair, if you were in a rush to get married.”

“I prefer Bale as Batman,” he admitted with a wry expression. “I don’t—I don’t remember if I lied about it, but I don’t think I said.”

“Okay, well, we’ve clearly reached saturation,” Tony drawled, dry as can be. “Have you cheated on me?” When Steve immediately shook his head no, Tony asked, “have any of the things you’ve said to me about how you feel been untrue?”

“Everything I said is true,” Steve promised, keeping his voice quiet. “I, some details, I… what I did, I—”

Tony shook his head adamantly then, quick to interrupt him. “That’s not what I meant, darling. Now,” he said more pointedly, “come back home with me, Steve. Marry me, so I can date you, and kick you to the couch if you ever scare me like this again.” 

Steve couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. "Yes," he whispered through a watery smile when he finally caught up to reality. "Yes, Tony, I'll marry you. And if I ever hurt you again, I will call your mother myself."

Through his tears, Tony suddenly laughed, a sound sweeter and more dear to Steve that he coveted more than any money or power imaginable. He hugged Tony closer to his heart, breathing him in deeply, and privately vowed never to let Tony slip away again.


	2. Four months later

Tony stepped off the elevator on the forty-sixth floor and followed the sign for Shield Publishing. The minor sea of cubicles in the wide open space was abuzz with people at work, gossiping employees, and the quiet thrumming of hardworking printers and copiers. 

“Hey, you lost?” he heard someone ask, and figuring it could only be directed at him, Tony turned towards the voice. 

The voice belonged to a tall, well-dressed man, maybe a little younger than himself, and he boasted a physique that probably should have had Tony drooling. As it was, he could feel his jealous hackles preemptively rising. 

“Who’s asking?” he called back, because how dare he be attractive in Steve’s day to day presence. 

Whoever he was, he wasn’t amused—it might have been the simmering jealousy talking, but Tony wasn’t convinced the man even knew how to smile. He closed the distance between them with a fast, intimidating walk, and it was all Tony could do to stand his ground. 

“You’re in the office of Shield Publishing,” the man told him, aggressive even while being polite. “I am James Barnes, assistant to the Editor-in-chief. I’ll ask you again: are you lost?”

Tony’s mouth went dry. He tried to swallow, but it didn’t work. “No fucking way,” he muttered, “you’re—you? You’re the assist—okay, no, you know what? Not your fault,” he said in a rush, struggling not to jump to conclusions. With monumental effort, he found his calm place, took a deep, steadying breath, then tried again. “Yes, I’m lost. I’m here to see Steve, Steve Rogers. Please help me.”

Steve’s handsome, tall, young, well-dressed assistant frowned at him, but still complied. “What’s your name and business?” he asked while he led Tony around the maze of cubicles, oblivious to how people were staring after them in their wake. 

“I am Tony Stark, and my business is lunch,” Tony told him, then almost walked right into Barnes when the man spun around to stare at him. 

“You?” he blurted out, giving Tony an obvious once-over. “ _You_ are Tony Stark?”

A silence fell over the office. Tony had started to wonder if Children of the Corn had ever been reimagined with cubicles, when a blonde woman walked out of a nearby office. 

“I was starting to think you weren’t real,” she said, holding her hand out to Tony in greeting. “Hi, I’m—my name is Sharon, Sharon Carter, I—you were,” she stammered through her excitement and surprise. 

“You were the one behind this whole plan, weren’t you?” Tony asked her in turn, and the way she turned red was answer enough. 

“My sincerest apology for calling you an airhead,” she said with a nervous smile, though she spoke clearly, as if it was the only thing she’d always wanted to say to him. 

“Water under the bridge. I took your advice, you know. I went to Bubby’s,” Tony replied, smiling easily in return. “You did good work.”

“What’s this? Are we hosting a convention?” 

Everyone around Tony snapped to attention at Steve’s sudden bark of annoyance, and even Tony worried for a moment that he’d been caught idling at work. 

“Your—uh,” Barnes stammered, and only managed to gesture in Tony’s direction. 

If he’d been any less handsome, Tony might have sympathized. “You really are new to this, aren’t you?” he muttered instead from behind Barnes, and got an angry glare for his trouble. 

“What? My what, tell me,” Steve demanded, still standing at his office door with his hands on his hips. 

Was it wrong to be turned on?

“I’m waiting on the notes for the conference call at 2:30, where are they? Frank Boyle’s contract, where’s that? Thirty minutes ago: coffee. Barnes, if you can’t—”

“Hi, Steve!” Tony called, and Barnes stepped so far out of the way that he practically pressed himself against the wall. 

Between one heartbeat and the next, the scowl on Steve’s face turned into a beaming smile of surprise. Finally, he walked away from his office towards them. Sharon rushed into her office and closed the door, but Barnes didn’t have that kind of luck. 

When Steve took Tony’s hands in his, he squeezed them gently in apology before turning to Barnes with an unimpressed glower. “You: get back to work. Contract, notes. This isn’t a preschool, it’s a business. There are no excuses.”

Barnes managed to cough up something in the affirmative before scuttling away. 

Steve turned his attention back to Tony with a smile then, a change from night to day. 

“Can I see your office?” Tony wondered, gently rubbing a thumb over the back of Steve’s hand. Steve’s smile grew wider, and without a word, he led Tony back to his office. As he closed the door behind them, Tony made his way to the larger of two bookshelves, taking in the tasteful, if staggering, display of awards addressed to Steve. 

Steve walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around Tony from behind. Tony gently covered Steve’s hands around his waist with his own and leaned back into his embrace. 

“You’re meaner than a two-headed snake,” Tony told him with a big grin, and he preened when he felt the rumble of Steve’s amusement against his back. 

Then, a little quieter, he added, “Barnes is handsome.” 

“That sounds dangerous,” Steve murmured against Tony’s hair, nuzzling into it happily. “Should I call security?”

“He looks like he _is_ security,” Tony groused, and again felt the rumble of Steve’s amusement as he snickered into Tony’s hair. 

“Compared to you, sweetheart, he’s nothing,” Steve promised, though he still sounded more amused than anything. “Are we going to lunch?”

But Tony didn’t hear his question. He was too busy eyeing the office door and trying to gauge just how much of the office was visible through the glass panels. 

A gentle squeeze brought Tony’s attention back to the conversation, and he turned to look up at Steve in wonder. “Tony?” Steve prompted again, amused by Tony’s obvious distraction. “Lunch?”

“In a minute,” Tony agreed, bringing one of Steve’s hands up to press a quick kiss over the back of his hand, then he gently untangled himself to make a full loop of the office. 

Tony’s new office had a better view, but it wasn’t as spacious as Steve’s. He made his way to Steve’s two desks, one which faced the windows, and another that faced the door and two guest chairs, then came to a stop beside Steve’s imposing leather chair.

“We could order in, too,” Steve suggested while Tony was lost in his reverie. “Eat in the office.”

“No,” Tony replied absently, then turned to Steve with a smile. “This is your chair?”

Steve eyed him suspiciously, but he was clearly curious enough to play along. “It is.”

“Come sit in it?” 

This time, Steve looked even more skeptical, so Tony rephrased his request. 

“I wonder, sometimes, how you’re doing at work. I’d like to see how… you know, how you look, in situ.”

Steve chuckled quietly, shaking his head to himself, but he walked around his desk to indulge Tony by taking a seat.

Tony beamed down at him and turned Steve’s chair around to give him a quick peck on the lips. Before Steve could get his hands on him or say anything, Tony went down on his knees, nudging at Steve’s thighs to make room for himself between his feet.

“Tony, what are—”

Before Steve got to finish his question, Tony interrupted him by pressing a finger firmly to Steve’s lips. “You’re an intelligent man,” he said with an impish smirk. “Make an educated guess.”

“Sweetheart, what if the others find out?”

“Would you be in trouble?” Tony asked sincerely, but once Steve shook his head, there was no turning back. “Then they better pay attention. Especially your secretary,” he added with a huff of disdain. He made quick work of Steve’s zipper and his belt, then eagerly pulled Steve’s cock free. It wasn’t hard yet, not by a longshot, but Tony could already feel it filling in anticipation. Tony gave him a few firm pulls, root to tip, before taking his full length into his mouth. 

Steve nearly bucked out of his seat at the unexpected feeling of Tony’s warm, wet mouth around his cock. His back arched and his head tipped back with pleasure, and Tony had to pin him down with a hand on Steve’s hip to keep from choking as Steve’s cock grew longer and thicker down his throat. 

Eventually, as Steve’s cock neared its full girth, Tony had to give in and pull back. He sat back on his haunches to watch the keyed up euphoria and heartwarming awe in Steve’s expression, as if he still couldn’t believe that someone would give him pleasure without expecting anything in return. Tony continued to stroke Steve’s cock to full hardness, pausing briefly here and then to leisurely lave the full length of his cock, eager to lap up the precum dribbling down his shaft and mixing with his saliva. 

“If that assistant of yours ever tries anything, I want you to remember this,” Tony growled up at Steve, unbothered by the wet mess of precum and spit around his mouth and dripping down his chin. “As long as I’m yours, you are mine. And I don’t share well.”


End file.
